


Stenbrough at it's Finest

by Newt2503



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: IT - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:07:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29710710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Newt2503/pseuds/Newt2503
Summary: (Mixture between the novel and the films. Imagine the characters from the 2017 film, not the 1990)(Available on Wattpad @Newt2503a5 and Quotev @Newt2503)
Relationships: Stenbrough - Relationship
Kudos: 5





	1. 1

Stanley Uris peered sideways, glancing at the Bill that he longed to have, but knew he never would. Bill was peacefully staring off the edge of the Quarry, clueless of his spectator. All the other Losers had been tied up with their own business, leaving only Stan and Bill to hang out that day. It was a rather peaceful day, the constant song of birds chirping in their ears, and the sun at it's highest peak of the day. The stereo was playing an unfamiliar tune, but Stan enjoyed it all the same. 

They had been sitting on a rock for awhile, just staring off the edge of the cliff that lay before their eyes, when Bill finally stood up. 

'I-I'm going to h-head into the w-wuh-water now.' He stuttered, struggling with the slightest of words. He was getting help for it though, a speech therapy class once a week. It was really helping him, he had significantly improved. But not quite as good as he had been before Georgie had died, perhaps he would never recover to be quite as clear as he once had been.

'I'll be in in a minute.' Stanley had replied in his low, shy voice.

'O-oh-okay.' Bill began to slip off his clothes, Stan silently watching. Stealthily watching. He could never be with Bill, he just knew he couldn't. Bill had Beverly, and they were happy together, loved each other even. Often Stan wasn't the kind of guy to be jealous over such the kind, but this was different. This was Bill. 

Bill now stood, half naked, only in his underwear, as he ran toward the cliff's edge and jumped. Stanley watched, wondering if someday they would jump, and never resurface. A scary thought really, but likely just paranoia. He stood up and folded Bill's clothes, a habit of which he had, happened to be perfection, tidiness.

Stan peered over the edge of the cliff, where he saw Bill floating upon the water's surface. Bill gave him a short wave, in which Stanley had returned. Stan walked back over to the boulder and sat upon it, thinking, and reaching into his backpack. From his backpack he pulled a small notebook, a journal if you will. This 'journal' was full of many thoughts, sketches, and entries, entries being tales of something interesting that had happened throughout the day. But mainly, it was just thoughts. A lot had consisted particularly of Bill. The intense shame and embarrassment it would inflict upon him if anyone were to ever read this journal would be unbearable. Which was exactly why he only used it when he was isolated and alone, like he was now.

He flipped to the page that held yesterday's 'interesting' events. Those events being Richie slapping Eddie's ice cream from his hand and cracking his iconic jokes of banging Eddie's mum. The reason of this being so pathetic. Eddie had complained of Richie being disgusting because he had flicked his chewing gum at Eddie, which had hit him on the neck. Maybe Richie had overreacted, but then again, that was Richie.

He thought it had been a rather funny argument between the pair, and couldn't help but think that they were a rather cute couple together. But his thoughts were soon disrupted by Bill's holler from far below in the water.

'A-are you coming, St-St-Stanley?'

'Uhh, yeah I'll be down in a minute.' He called back to Bill.

Stanley shoved his journal into his backpack and began removing his clothes until he too, was only wearing his underwear. He neatly folded his clothing before running and leaping off the edge of the cliff, crashing into the water below, conducting waves that disturbed it's calm surface.

He emerged from the depths, turning around and casting a metaphorically glowing smile in Bill's direction, who returned it generously. 

'F-fuh-fuh-finally got the c-courage to jump I-I-I-I see.' Bill teased.

'What do you mean "got the courage"? I was just chilling out, had nothing to do with courage.' He replied, rolling his eyes rather dramatically and sending splashes of water in Bill's direction.

'Didn't s-suh-seem like it t-t-to me.' Bill said before submerging himself under the water, teasing Stanley by grabbing at his feet, until he stopped, and resurfaced a couple of metres away from Stan. But Stan hadn't noticed Bill, ten metres behind him, just staring at him. And because he thought he was still underwater, he began to panic, because there's no way anyone can hold their breath for that long.

'Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!' He turned around frantically, meeting Bill's gaze. 'Oh man, I thought you didn't come up, I got worried for a second there.' Bill only smiled in return, before diving underwater again, and reappearing in front of Stanley and speaking two words,

'I'm c-cuh-cuh-cold.' Which made the two boys suddenly realise how cold they actually were as they made their way toward the bank, occasionally splashing each other. They reached the top of the cliff where all their belongings lay, as 'Time After Time' by Cyndi Lauper played on the stereo.

The two boys lying next to each other upon the large stones, Stanley couldn't help but feel conflicted at the fact that Bill felt absolutely nothing for him, that Biil would in no frame of mind ever have such interest in Stanley, that Bill was just laying there, next to him, and acting so... normal. Stan however, was feeling much like he would vomit, feeling nervous. Sure he had been close to Bill, always close, not as close in this context- physically- but they were close. The best of friends perhaps, but Stan was still on the edge of freaking out.

'I have t-to go s-suh-soon.' Bill stammered next to Stan, who immediately tensed after the breaking of such a long period of silence.

'Yeah. Me too. I have some jobs at home to do.' That was the sad excuse for a reply Stan could think up, none of which had even been true, he just wanted to say something back. If Bill wasn't busy, Stanley would have been more than happy to just sit here with him all day, even without talking, just sitting and staring into the trees, watching for birds. He loved birds. 

They relaxed on the stone awhile longer, eventually drying off. Stan hadn't realised they were still wearing nothing but their underwear until they both stood up, Stan immediately grabbed his clothes and begun redressing, buttoning up his light blue shirt and pulling his trousers on. He grabbed his backpack as Bill grabbed his own, and pushed their bikes until they had reached the main road, the Quarry having been on a smaller trail through the canopy of trees. 

Both boys climbed onto their bikes and rode home, making small talk like 'I had fun' and 'wish the others had been there, they really missed out'. Obviously lines having been said with the addition of Bill's stutter. 

Stanley reached his home first, as it was closer from the Quarry. The boys said their goodbyes as Stanley neatly parked his bike on the lawn out the front of the house. He waved goodbye as he stepped into his house, closing his front door and disappearing.

Bill however, did not go home, instead he rode his bike down to the Barrens, where their clubhouse was, and sat alone, enjoying the peace and tranquillity that was not offered at home.


	2. 2

Stanley walked up the stairs to his room, examining the pristine white walls of the stairway for the millionth time. He turned the handle on his door, stepped into his room, and locked himself in. Privacy having been something quite scarce at home, something you could only have so much of, which meant he savoured every moment of it, took every opportunity.

Stanley sat on his bed and stared at the wall of his bedroom, no particular thoughts in his head. It was 2pm now, and he had nothing to do. His time with Bill had come to an end, so he grabbed his journal from his backpack and began writing...

'I wish ever so desperately that Bill could understand, feel the same even, connect with me in a romantic manor. But how wishful thinking never helped anyone achieve anything, except maybe create an impossible fantasy that would destroy them, that they would never fulfil. This, of course, is not what I want. So instead, feelings just remain pitiful, hopeless feelings. And I just remain pitiful, hopeless Stanley.'

Stanley himself, had not been coping very well lately. He was deprived of sleep, and strained of all mental power, felt very little emotion. This was Stanley, the New Stanley. The Old Stanley was fun, happy. But now, he was nothing but depressed. The trauma the Losers had experienced together was beyond imaginable, beyond explainable. But Bill suffered it the most obviously. Stanley couldn't quite figure out why he was so fussed about himself, when really, he should be worried about Bill.

Stan knew Bill had it hard at home, though Bill would never admit that, but Stanley knew it. Bill had always been blamed for what had happened to Georgie, whether that be by his parents, or by himself, but regardless, he was blamed. Stanley knew damn right that it wasn't Bill's fault, Bill probably knew it too, but he still blamed himself.

Stanley rolled over on his bed, he had nothing in this life except the Losers, especially Bill. Bill was the most important person in the world to him. Out of all the Losers, Bill and Stan were the closest, they had a bond. The gang had been through stuff that no one could ever beging to imagine. Especially Bill, because he went through everything the other Losers had to experience, as well as the loss of his brother. And here Stanley was, sprawled across his bed feeling sorry for himself. 

'I'm pathetic.' He mumbled to himself. 

He climbed off his bed and grabbed his backpack, unlocked his door and walked out onto the stairway. He made his way to the front door and stepped out, mounting his bike. Stanley rode up the street until he had reached an isolated area that he was familiar with. There he found a small path, he climbed off his bike and wheeled it down the trail where he heard the familiar sound of the water flow. He went deeper into the Barrens until he had reached his destination. This is where he remembered building the dam. Getting told off by the old Irish cop for blocking up the drainage. Where all the Losers had taken the blame (Including Stanley himself) when Ben had insisted upon it being his fault. Thus, the Losers Club had formed. That could perhaps be the entire reason they were even friends now. Maybe it was all meant to happen, just like it had.

Stanley had made many memories in this place. Before the Losers, he had been a lonely child, picked on at school for being Jewish. He was always an outcast until he met the Losers, of course he was still picked on, but now he wasn't alone.

Stanley tended to come here in his free time, whether the other Losers were there or not. It felt peaceful, he could think without someone nagging him or constantly in his ear. Whether that be Richie, or his mum or whatever. The point was, he felt calm. Maybe that was because he felt at home, like this was where he belonged above all other places. Like this was his true home, and maybe, in some context, it really was. They do say home is where the heart is. The Barrens, this was his home.

He walked up the Kenduskeag and sat on the sand. He remembered when this part of the land was flooded from the dam. How Eddie nearly had a heart attack when he found out that it was grey water, basically just a mixture of piss and washing machine waste. 

Stanley thought to himself, he wondered where he would be right now, what life would be like, if he hadn't met Bill. It's likely that he wouldn't be friends with these people, that he wouldn't have gone through such trauma, that he would be the main target for Bowers and his gang. He would be lonely, very lonely. And perhaps just as depressed as he is now. Maybe. 

He sat there for awhile, about half an hour before getting up and walking over to his bike. He grabbed it by the handlebars and wheeled it away. When he had reached the road, he climbed atop of the bike, riding it home. He neatly parked the bike out the front of the house again, before entering the house, climbing up to his room, and sneaking in a short nap, perhaps even a slight sob, before being called for dinner.


	3. 3

Stanley woke up to rays of sunlight, blazing through his window, brightness burning his eyes. He rolled out of his bed and walked dizzily across the floor to his wardrobe. He pulled a red button-down shirt and cream coloured trousers from the wardrobe and threw them on in replacement of his pyjamas. Before heading down for breakfast, he neatly folded the pyjamas and made his bed.

Stan walked down the familiar staircase, being welcomed by the smell of freshly cooked pancakes.

'Morning Stanley.' His mother said from the kitchen.

'Morning.' Was his reply.

'You hungry?'

'Um, a little bit. I'll probably just have one or two. I want to head out with my friends soon.' A lie. He wanted to be alone above all else, or perhaps with Bill. Richie and Eddie would likely be at the arcade. Ben would be at the library, Mike doing work. Beverly and Bill however, he had no clue. Perhaps they would be spending time together. Stanley would go and see if Bill was busy, or even home, before he went down to the Clubhouse.

Stan's mother served up his small portion of pancakes, which he quickly ate. He grabbed his backpack from his bedroom and ran outside, climbing onto his bike, and pedalling up the street until he reached Bill's house. He flicked down his bike stand and left it neatly out front of Bill's house, next to Silver. Stanley walked up to the front door and knocked, being quickly welcomed in by Bill's mother and directed upstairs where Bill was in his room.

'Thank you Mrs. Denbrough.' She only replied by giving a short nod, and a dull smile. Stanley didn't quite feel welcome here, perhaps Bill felt the same way.

Stan reached Bill's room and tapped the door with his knuckle.

'Ummm, it's me.' He said nervously. Bill surely would recognize his voice.

'C-cuh-come in, St-Stanley.' Came Bill's reply.

Stanley walked anxiously into Bill's bedroom, shutting the door behind him, presuming Bill had wanted it closed. Bill was sitting on his bed, he appeared to be staring at his wall, just as Stanley had the night before.

'Umm, are you doing anything today? I was gonna head down to the Clubhouse if you wanna come.' Stanley offered, not really caring of the reply.

'S-s-sure, I'll c-come.' He replied. He was still sitting in his pyjamas, looking as though he had only just awoken. 

'I'll leave so you can change if you like.' 

'I-I-I-I d-don't really mind Stanley, w-wuh-we're friends.' He replied, Stanley's face turned significantly pink, he felt rather hurt by the statement, by the word 'friends'. Though he knew it was true.

Uh, yeah okay.' He sat on the bed as Bill got up and walked over to his wardrobe, pulling out a white and blue shirt and a pair of denim shorts. Bill removed his shirt, back facing Stanley. Finally, Stan could see his features. His skin was much more pale than it appeared to be. Stanley turned away, his face becoming hot. He rolled over on Bill's bed and looked out the window, trying to distract himself and calm down, but no such help.

Finally, Bill had finished dressing and came to sit on the bed beside Stan.

'You want to go now? Do you need to have breakfast first?'

'Nah, I-I-I'll be al-alright. I'm not r-real-really that huh-hungry anyways.'

'Right.' Stan said, standing up and brushing his shirt off. He fidgeted with the button of his shirt and followed Bill out the door. They walked outside and were surprisingly greeted by Richie and Eddie.

'Hey Bill, hey Stan. We were going to head to the Clubhouse if you wanted to come with?' Eddie offered the two other boys.

'We we-were actually go-going there r-ruh-right now.' Bill replied.

Eddie smiled, but that only lasted a short time before Richie slapped him on the back of the head.

'Ouch! What was that for, fuckface?'

'Eh, just kinda felt like it.'

Eddie punched him playfully in the stomach and raised the middle finger. Richie however, didn't see, because he was doubled over grabbing his stomach, which only made the rest of the group start laughing. Stanley was sure he was going to write this in his journal later.

Once Richie had recovered, the four boys mounted their bikes and rode to the Barrens. They threw their bikes onto the floor of leaves, with the exception of Stanley, who parked his bike neatly beside a tree. They all climbed down the ladder into the Clubhouse and grabbed a hair net to put on their head. Richie went straight to the hammock, Eddie had of course complained of this. The two boys both ended up on the hammock, kicking each other in the face and knocking comics out of their hands. 

Stanley sat on he swing that was attached to one of the beams on the roof. He kicked lightly off the floor, sure not to disturb any dust on the floor, because Eddie would likely complain of his asthma. Bill leaned against one of the walls, playing with a yo-yo that Richie had once brought and forgotten about, and left it behind by mistake.

Stan stealthily got Bill's attention and pointed towards the hammock smirking. Eddie had his head leaning on Richie's shoulder, reading Richie's comic. He looked up to see Stan and Bill staring at him with grins on their faces, Bill winked.

'What fuckfaces? It was more comfortable, I was just reading the comic!' He growled at them, crossing his arms and looking away. This made Bill and Stanley break into a fit of laughter. Richie pleaded ignorance and Eddie had a scowl on his face, he threw a sock at them which just made them laugh even more. By now, a tear of laughter was streaming down Bill's face and Stanley was doubled over, trying to hold back laughter, with no such luck.

When Stanley had calmed down from his fit of laughter, he climbed the ladder, and stepped outside into the Barrens. He could smell fresh air, slightly invaded by grey water, but mainly just the fresh air. He walked over to a tree and sat beside it, he was going to do some sketches in his journal, but was interrupted by Bill's head popping out of the Clubhouse. 

'Wh-wuh-what are y-you d-d-d-doing?' 

'Errrr, nothing, I was just sitting here.' Stan said trying to sound as convincing as he could.

'O-okay, can I si-si-sit with you? I k-kuh-kinda feel like I-I'm third wheeling i-in th-th-there.' He laughed a bit and sat down beside Stanley, not waiting for approval. Stanley smiled a bit, but honestly, he was feeling kind of sad at the moment, disappointed even. Once again, Stanley's thoughts were broken by Bill's stutter next to him. 'Ca-can I t-tuh-tell you something?'

'Y-yeah, of course, you can tell me anything.' Stanley replied, smiling gently.

'I think I-I'm going to br-br-break up with B-Buh-Beverly.'

'Oh really? Why is that?' Stanley questioned, concealing his enjoyment of the news. He personally had nothing against Beverly, or the two being together, but he just couldn't help being the slightest bit happy about it.

'I-I dunno, I just f-fuh-feel like we wuh-were better as fr-fr-friends.' Well, it wasn't exactly 'I'm gay and I love you Stanley and I want to be with you, not Beverly'. But that was fine, if he was breaking up with Beverly so he would be happier, that would be even better.

'Beverly would probably be fine with that as long as it made you happy. You just do what you think is going to make you feel good, that's what's important. Don't just date Beverly until it gets boring and you feel miserable just so you can keep her happy. You have to think about yourself too, Bill.'

'I-I know. Th-thu-thanks. We sh-should probably head off s-suh-soon, leave these luh-luh-lovebirds to it.' He winked and pointed toward the Clubhouse where Richie and Eddie were.

Stanley laughed a little and nodded his head. He stood up, walked over to his bike, and began pushing it down the pathway alongside Bill. They reached the main road again and hopped onto their bikes, riding them back to their houses. This time, Bill was the first to arrive home. Stanley didn't stop his bike, just continued riding and waved goodbye to Bill. He got home and leaned his bike against the garage so it would be protected by the rain that would be soon coming. He went inside, filled out a page or two in his journal, cleaned his already clean room (perhaps from just pure boredom), and took a nap before lunch.


	4. 4

Stanley lay awake, staring at his ceiling, at 1am. The reason being a horrible nightmare, which was no different to any other night, tonight had just been worse than usual. Typically he would just roll over and fall back asleep, but not tonight, no hope in that aspect. So instead, he lay restless on his bed, thinking as he always did. Maybe that wasn't so healthy for him, having so many thoughts, never sharing them with anyone, just letting them consume him. It made his mind numb, which might help him sleep, but probably not.

He rolled onto his left side, holding his eyes shut tight, hoping that if he forced himself into thinking he was asleep, maybe it would happen. But no such luck. The dream had been of the Flute Lady, when he got lost in the Sewers. When she got him. That's what he had dreamt about. And he knew when he shot up in his bed, when sweat trickled down his back, that this would be a long night. It made him feel sick, this dream, nightmare if you will. He had seen her wrap those ghastly fangs around his face. He remembered shaking in scared and panicked convulsions, perhaps even doing so as he slept. He wished it would stop, that it would all just stop. He felt on edge of crying, but kept reasonably calm. 

Most of his nightmares were based off of true memories, traumatic experiences in the past. These nightmares would never leave him, he knew this. He didn't like to believe that it was true, but he had to face life head-on if he wanted to get used to them. If they wouldn't leave him, he would have to grow into them, to face his fears. Usually the nightmares were of the Flute Lady, that hideous painting. There was an assortment of different subjects in which he dreamt about, but that was the key topic. She seemed to be the protagonist of his dreams.

Stanley rolled onto his back again and stared at the shadows on the ceiling. They appeared to portray creatures with ghoulish tentacles as the wind pushed the trees around outside his window. But Stanley wasn't silly, certainly not. He knew they were just trees. But though he was not silly, and he knew they were just trees, it didn't stop him from feeling slightly insecure, slightly unsafe. He rolled over again so he wasn't looking at the shadows, they would just prevent sleep for even longer, if it were to ever come at all.

He wondered, perhaps Bill may be doing the same thing right now. Laying sleepless in bed, wishing to close his eyes and wake up six hours later, reasonably rested. Or maybe he was already fast asleep, dreaming, calm. Stan could hope for nothing but the latter, hoping he be fast asleep, with dreams playing in his mind. Perhaps Bill was dreaming of Beverly right now, though Stanley hoped it was of himself instead. Once again, there was no issue with Bill and Beverly dating, Stan just liked to imagine, or, more particularly to hope, that it be him that Bill thought about. But, he knew wishful thinking was bad for you, and that hope would never get you anywhere, but unfortunately that didn't stop him, and he knew it was becoming an issue for him in some context.

It made Stanley's chest warm, to think of such things, but it also made him feel a tinge of guilt. To think of him in that aspect when he was dating Beverly. The warmth that had spread through his body was soon replaced by the cold icy feeling that had consumed him before. Like ice sticks of disappointment poking into him, reminding him. 

Soon, Stanley's head began to spin- spin as fan blades would- until he dripped into a sleep, rather deep into the night already. The last thing he had recalled thinking of that night was kissing Bill, not awkwardly, but passionately. And that was the issue, you see, if he kissed Bill, Stanley wouldn't be able to look at Bill for, perhaps months. Stanley was a very awkward person when it came to relationships, whether that be friends, family, or love, he was just awkward about that concept.

Bill was a comforting figure in that aspect though, Stanley however, was just socially awkward and found it difficult to convey his emotions. But that didn't stop him from having friends, otherwise he wouldn't have Bill or Richie or Ben or any of the people that he has now. So, instead of talking to new people, he stuck with the Losers, because they were more than his friends, they were his family.

He slept reasonably well for the rest of the night. Only waking once more, but falling back into sleep shortly afterwards. He didn't recall waking because he had a nightmare, he just woke up. He didn't quite understand why, but he fell back asleep thinking nothing of it.

Sleep never really came easy for Stanley. Perhaps that was his greatest challenge in all, to just get a reasonable rest. Suppose that was why he tried to get so many naps throughout the day. But that didn't really help much, he still needed a proper sleep at night. But sleep came proper in the end, and Stanley felt well by the next day.


End file.
